Back in the Past
by coollizzylou
Summary: After an encounter with an unfamiliar, purple-haired Talon agent, Tracer is catapulted into the beginning of 2018. Except, how come everybody knows her name? Plus other things because the world of Overwatch is really big. (self-insert)
1. Chapter 1- Tracer

**Chapter 1- Tracer (365)**

"Didn't think you'd get rid of me that quick, did ya, Love?" I quipped, recalling and blinking towards the purple haired Talon agent. I tried to grab her collar as I flew by, but she rolled underneath my grasp. I landed a few yards away from where she was quickly getting back up, drew my twin pulse pistols, and started firing at her, blinking as fast as I possibly could for good measure.

She also started shooting at me. I did a barrel roll in the air and blinked toward her. I didn't miss this time, and grabbed her shoulders, pinning her down.

"Gotcha!" I exclaimed with a smile. After all, I had to chase her down and I wanted to get back to my team ASAP. We had a rescue mission going on.

Of course, as soon I finally caught her, she disappeared from underneath me in a flash of violet light. I hit the grass with a small thud. When I looked around, she was nowhere in sight. A curse slipped out of my mouth.

Well, I probably should make it back to my team. Winston needed me. Hopefully, that agent wouldn't bother us anymore, whoever she was. I started moving towards the door back to the main fight. It swung open with a clang, and I went inside.

Inside the building, the familiar cacophony of booms, crashes, cracks, and shouts of a fight echoed through the facility. I blinked/ran through the network of hallways towards the fight, keeping my pistols at the ready.

I was mid-blink when the entire world stopped. I couldn't move, and my body tingled with a weird pressure centered 'round my chest. Everything around me blurred then cleared, then blurred again.

"Nos vemos," Her smirk came out as a warble as she lowered herself to my eye level. When she raised her hand, a single violet holokey formed as if on command just in front of my nose.

At that moment I knew I would regret the next word out of her smug little mouth.

"Boop"

 **A/N: Hi everyone that read this. *waves* This is my first thing on this site, so it'll probably fail. But whatever. This is really fun to write. Just so you know, ch 2 is much longer** ***Edit: Oh. My. Gosh. I did not even realize that the thing was unreadable. Thanks to everyone that pointed it out**

 **-Coollizzylou**


	2. Chapter 2- Winston

**Chapter 2- Winston (732)**

The battle was an absolute mess. Although, when have they ever not been. My jump jets fired and I bounded up through the chaos. I landed on a group of two or three Talon operatives, their small forms splintering benef mine. Unfortunate, but necessary. We had people to save.

I dropped behind Rinehart's barrier field in front of all of us to give us some room. Torbjörn was setting up one of his turrets and the bastion unit was in sentry mode to hold the perimeter. I lumbered over to the doors to break it down. It wouldn't budge. Mei held out her ingenious endothermic blaster up to the door to make it more brittle, so I could break it down. Tracer was taking care of that purple Talon agent that was harassing us. Everything was going to plan.

"It's ready!" Mei called out and stepped away. The once dark steel door was covered in small, pale ice crystals. I set down my tesla cannon and pushed the door off its hinges with ease.

Inside there were five guards pointing their weapons at me, as if hesitant to shoot. I hoisted up my tesla cannon back up and flipped the switch. The branches attached to all of them in the confined room, and they fell to the ground with a swift gurgling noise.

In the back of the confined room, there were two people, a UN representative and her husband, gagged, bound, and unconscious. I had to be gentle as I broke them free. It didn't take a lot of force. Soon, the bounds were broken, and they were loaded on folded stretchers from off my jump jets. I placed a small shield generator on each, and a luminescent bubble extended over the captives.

"Targets secure," I voiced into the comms.

"Piloting MV-261 Orca to designated rendezvous point," Athena replied curtly.

"Good," I chucked pushing the two shielded stretchers out the doors. "Let's' move!" I called out. The bastion reconfigured to recon mode, and the rest of our small group flat out ran.

The return was much easier than the push, mostly because the soldiers had ether evacuated or regrouped. Rinehart crashed through the main doors. No need for a sneaky escape.

The Orca was docked, ready and waiting. The hostages were loaded through the open door. Engines fired up and we were gone. Mission accomplished.

"Where's Tracer?" Mei spoke up.

"She should have reported back to the Orca when I voiced that the targets were secure," I said. I looked around. She wasn't on board. Oh no. I could feel the tide of emotion threatening to break through and wreak havoc.

Don't get angry. Don't get angry.

Every passenger looked anxiously out the limited amount of windows at the building we had come from. Suddenly, that same building was engulfed in flames, and there was a colossal booming that could be heard at our elevation.

Don't get angry. Don't get angry.

"Athena, What's her status?" I asked tentatively turning to face the computer.

Don't get angry. Don't get angry.

"Winston, your blood pressure has increased exponentially. I don't think-"

"I said, what is her status."

Don't get angry. Don't get angry.

"I must remind you, that at an increased blood pressure and heart rate, you are more prone to a primal rage episode."

"Stop monitoring my vitals and TELL ME HER STATUS!" I exploded at her.

Don't get angry. Don't get angry.

"Very well. Determining status of Lena 'Tracer' Oxton," Athena finally checked/

Don't get angry. Don't get angry.

Don't get angry. Don't get angry.

Don't get angry. Don't get angry.

I removed my newly repaired glasses, just in case.

"Terminated."

"Winston, stay calm," Athena ordered. The news came too late.

I saw red. A roar erupted out from my throat. Everyone backed away from me in the enclosed space. I didn't care. She couldn't be gone. She couldn't. Tracer was the only one who actually bothered to interact with me after overwatch fell. She was the first to jump by my side. She couldn't be gone, but she was.

Thankfully, the outburst was done as quickly as it came. I readjusted my glasses and crashed to the ground.

"She died a hero's death, Winston. We will remember her always," Rinehart put his armoured hand on my shoulder.

"Who will tell Emily," Mei spoke up with a forlorned expression.

Oh no.

 **A/N: Hey y'all! Chapter two is done! (whew!) Winston is a really cool character. I hope I did him justice. On a side note, who do you think is joining the 'LOL I'm not dead' club?**

 **-Coollizzylou**


	3. Chapter 3- Emily

**Chapter 3- Emily (435)**

I put the dirty teacup in the sink. Relaxation time was over. Lena would be back soon. I had to prep.

I'm not exactly sure when we adopted the tradition of post-expedition movies and cuddle parties. It just happened. We would watch a movie, usually a comedy, underneath a heavy blanket. More often than not, she would fall asleep, totally exhausted from the day's fight, against me.

Gosh, I love her.

My holo-phone beeped and blinked. I tapped it and the screen instantly opened to reveal a text message:

Mei-Ling Zhou: Hey we have a situation and we really need you to come to WP:G.

That immediately started getting me worried. I replied that I was coming, and I dashed through our flat gathering my passport, purse, and coat. I was on the international speed train as soon as time permitted.

The trip was too long for my liking, although, it could be worse. I could have lived in a past time where you would have had to take a 17 hour or so trip, but in all honesty, I was not focused on how times have changed. My thoughts were consumed with worry. I trusted in Winston and his ability to keep everyone in mostly one piece, but I would have been lying if I said that I wasn't concerned about Lena's safety since she joined the new overwatch. Oh gosh. What if she was captured by Talon? What if her accelerator got damaged and it triggered her chronal disassociation? What if she was dead?

I took a bus to the nearest town to Watchpoint: Gibraltar and walked the rest of the way there the evening air blew past my face as I rung the doorbell. It was open by a blotchy faced Mei. She gestured me into the main room where Winston, Rinehart, Torbjörn, and a rickety old bastion unit were laying against one another's shoulders on the couch.

"What's Wrong? Where's Lena?" I urgently asked to the small group.

"Lena 'Tracer' Oxton was reported dead on January 12, 2078 at 11:46 AM," Athena spoke up to answer my question.

"What do you mean she's dead? She can reverse her own timeline! She couldn't've died!" I refuted the news almost instantly.

Mei came up and threw her arms around me. "It's true," she whimpered, "There was an explosion. I'm so, so, so sorry."

I could feel tears well up in my eyes like white-hot knives. I sniffed and looked over to the chronal anchor humming merrily in a corner. How dare it.

"Oh, Lena," I mumbled, a tear rolling down my cheek.

 **A/N: Yay! this thing is done! So. I have decided to talk about what ships will be in this fic, which are only cannon ones. (That doesn't mean we cant have bromances :) FYI, Chapters will be changes in character POV and will vary in lengths depending on what I think is best for the story.**

 **-Coollizzylou**


	4. Chapter 4- Tracer

**Chapter 4- Tracer (1175)**

I hit the ground with a thump. My entire body tingled with a dull ache. Blood pounded in my ears and my stomach churned. What happened?

I slowly got up from the face down position I had landed in and looked around. I wobbled when I got to my feet and fell down to one knee. Odd. The only other time that I had felt this way was when I... Oh no.

In a panicked flurry of motion, I checked that my chronal accelerator was in position and working. It seemed to be working in full condition. My energy core was almost full. If it was working, then why did I feel as if I had just put it on?

The nausea was starting to clear. That was good. Now I could figure out what happened to me.

I shakily got back up to a standing position and looked around. I was in a smallish field with a playground and a little stack of stones on the edge of a calm, empty lake that was obviously for aesthetic purposes. A line of scraggly, leafless trees did nothing to shield the brisk winter's wind from wicking away any existing heat from my legs. Dead bushes and grass only highlighted the fact that it was December. I looked up at the storm grey sky. Empty streets bordered little suburban houses.

Okay, then. That was a drastic change of scenery.

Just then, I heard a vrosh from out behind me. I turned around quickly, unsheathing my pulse pistols from my arms. It was just a white car with a black bra. I put my pulse pistols back. Now that's a old style if I've ever seen one. It was also driving on the ground. It didn't hover, and had four actual tiers touching the ground. Weird. That person must have been a antique collector. Although, that kind of fuel is harder to come by. Why would they be just driving their old timey car for the sake of driving it?

Another car that was touching the ground came right after it. Then another. Then another. The whole streat soon filled with the back and forth movements of a busy street with cars that touched the ground.

Wait, what?

I must be having one of those weird glimpses of the past dream. Okay, that made sense. My chronal accelerator was working, that's a fact. I knew it was because I used to be able to run my hand through my abdomen, which would have taken on a bluish color. Neither of those were happening. I wasn't disassociated. This must be one of those weird dreams.

At least that's what I told myself. I strained my brain to remember when I had fallen asleep. I couldn't. I didn't feel asleep. What was going on?

As if on cue, I remembered flashes of a fight with a purple haired Talon agent, of the world stopping in its tracks. I was definitely not asleep, and something was definitely wrong

"Okay, Lena, you're okay,"I muttered to myself. "This is no problem! You can handle this." I took deep breaths to steady myself.

No problem.

Yet.

Okay. First things first: I needed to find a date somewhere. There were no signs telling the year at first glance. I guess I'll need to ask around, then. I looked around for any pedestrians. There was a dog walker across the street. This is my chance! I quickly blinked across the busy street, onto the sidewalk.

"Excuse me!" I called out, blinking towards the dog walker. As I got closer, It became apparent that they were a middle aged woman with black, curly hair and was dressed in a black coat. She was walking a small, golden dog.

"Sorry to bother you, ma'am. I just need to ask a quick question," I said when I had reached an acceptable speaking distance. The women looked at me like I had fell from the moon. I guess that my blinking probably looked a little weird to her. Especially if my suspicions were correct.

"How did you do that, and who are you?" she questioned after a few seconds. Yep.

"Oh, well," I started to explain. "The short answers are I can do that because of this here device on my body, and my name is Lena Oxton. You can call me Tracer, though. I reckon I should have introduced myself earlier."

The golden dog started sniffing my legs. I bent down to pet it.

"Oh, he's so cute!" I told the owner without looking at her.

"So… you said you had a question?"

"Ah! Yes! What's today's date?" I sprung back up and into the conversation.

"Uh," she said, checking her blocky phone, "January twelfth."

"I mean the year," I corrected myself.

She looked at me like I was crazy.

"2018," she replied.

The numbers took a little bit to settle in. 2018. Oh. Okay, then.

I was right. I was in the past.

"Are you alright?" she asked me.

"No," I whispered, shaking my head, "No, I am not alright. I am definitely no alright." My breathing was speeding up. Deep breaths, Lena, deep breaths. You're Tracer. You can get through this.

I was barely aware that I was crying as I slowly sank down to a fetal position.

"What's wrong?" The woman asked, breaking me out of my stuper.

"I'm just a little lost," my voice cracked from on the ground. Lost. I lost them. I lost Winston. I lost Emily. I lost everyone.

"Is there any way that I can help?" She followed up, putting her hands on my shoulder.

"N-no," I drew in a shaky breath, "I, I don't think so." There's nothing I can do. My chronal accelerator was still working. I was still anchored to the timeline. I was trapped.

"Hey, there. You'll be alright. I got you," she spoke softly, pulling me back up and stringing one of my arms over her shoulder.

I didn't want to go back up. I was lost. I was hopeless.

She took off my tear filled goggles. "I'm going to bring you to my home," she soothed, rubbing my back.

"O-okay," I replied. I was in a daze as the woman escorted me to her home. I know I cried on the woman's shoulder. I think she also told me her name. Laura. I think I remember telling me about her kids. Maybe.

She set me down on a wooden chair when we got to the house. It was a decent sized house, with a floor above and a basement. It was much larger than my flat at home.

Home.

"I need to go pick up my kids from school. Stay here until I get back," she told me after getting me a cup of water and placed my goggles on the dining table. With that, she left.

The house was silent. Too silent. I forced myself to take deep breaths.

In, out. In, out.

You're Tracer. You're the Cavalry. Be strong.

In, out. In, out.

 **A/N: Yay! Chapter four's done! The plot's getting real and I'm very excited. In ch 5 we're going to switch gears, just FYI.**

 **-Coollizzylou**


	5. Chapter 5- Eliza

**Chapter 5- Eliza (1482)**

"C'mon! She's here!" I called out to my sister, Via, who was still in the glass hallway thing. Our mom was outside the school waiting for us. Via followed me after a moment and we both ran to mom's silver van. I sat in the front while Via sat in the row behind us.

When we got into the car, Via burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" Mom said.

"How Eliza died," She replied. She went on to explain about how I 'died' during play practice. The play was Star Wars themed, and I played Jabba the Hutt. So, of course, when Jaba died, I had to, too. When I had died I slumped in my 'throne' (actually one of the green lunchroom chairs), and then fell of the chair like a sack of potatoes. It kind of hurt, hitting my head on the stage, but it was worth it.

Via was still blabing on about my fake death, as per usual. She was always talking. I spoke up over her.

"So, who's at home?" I asked.

"You'll be mostly the only one home." Mom spoke to me while driving past the church that was on the corner. "Anna's at french club, Quinton's at gymnastics, Jeb is having a playdate at Jake's house, and, of course, we aren't babysitting Alli and McKarlie today. Isabel's at the groomers."

Yes! I'll be at home by myself. I'll be able to watch the Overwatch League in peace! Speaking of witch, who was on the schedule today? I have no clue. The overwatch league app won't work because I was without WIFI. Ugh. Stupid glorified ipod phone. At least I don't have to pay for a plan. Also, cute fresh-from-the-groomers puppy incoming! (Isabel was a pitch black puppy that only reached up to my ankles.)

"Oh, and also, there's this weird lady that had a mental breakdown, so she's at the house. I'll talk to Dad and we'll let her on her way soon," my mom spoke up. Via stuck her head closer to the front seat of the car to talk.

"So be nice?" she asked.

"Yeah," My mom replied.

Okay. Weird person. Weird person that could kill us. Or other… things. Things that correlate to biggest fear #2

As the car drove into the garage, I sifted through my options of how to fend off an attack. I guess I could throw my backpack at her if she attacked. I also had my lancer. That could work.

"Eliza, no one's going to get killed," my mom reminded me softly. I smiled sheepishly and put my lancer back in Betty, which was my bag. I got out of the car and mom drove off to pick up Anna from french club.

"Kim and I have a video call scheduled soon," Via told me.

"K. Go have good talk," I called out in purposeful poor grammar and she ran inside.

I still wasn't exactly sure that everything would be okay. I mean, people get killed all the time like that. I made the decision that I wouldn't trust whoever's behind the door when I pushed it open.

I looked around my house. It was open plan, with hardwood for the kitchen and dining room, and grey carpet for the living room. Two tables were pressed together in order to accommodate my large family. The counters had stacks of books on some and papers on others. Naden, my other, gold, and bigger dog (He reached my knee.) came to lick me. I bent down and let him lick my hand. I got up and saw the weird lady my mom was talking about.

She was wearing extremely good Tracer cosplay. Like, extremely extremely good. God-level cosplay. I could probably whip out the art book upstairs and her hair spikes would match. Her chronal accelerator was even moving!

Fellow nerd! AHHAHAHAHAHA! FINALLY! Someone to do lore talks with! Someone who actually understands that D.Va is not Talon! I had to gulp down a sporadic fangirl attack at the sight of her.

Okay, nevermind.

I trust her with my life.

I also realized that I was standing on the rug gaping at her like a wimpy blowfish. She was also staring at me. I noticed that there were tear streaks on her face. Oh right. Mental breakdown. Mental health first, nerdiness later.

"Uh, sorry," I broke the awkward silence and hurriedly put my backpack on the bench. "So, can I get you anything,"

"I'm fine right now" her voice had a slight shake, but OH MY GOSH SHE HAS THE ACCENT! Keep calm, Eliza. Don't be weird. I sat down beside her

"Are you okay?" I asked, somewhat awkwardly.

"Oh, I'm fine," she sighed, "It's just, there is nothing in the world that could prepare you for the realization."

Seeing my puzzled look, she continued:

"That everything is gone, I mean. Your family, friends -sniff- are still where they are, but you're… you're gone."

I noticed she was tearing up. I put my hand on her's. She shook it of.

"And goshdangIt!" except she didn't say 'goshdangit', "It's not even the first time it's happened! And every time, without fail, I do the same thing!" she exclaimed in frustration, putting her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry," I said, just sitting there.

"It's not your fault, love." she mumbled. "I'm just… bein' a touch dramatic."

"No, no. It's fine. Is there anything I can do?"

"That's the thing. You see, normally I can just wait until I go back, but I'm not dissociated. You and I are talking, I can touch things. I doesn't make sense!" she said in the same tone, shaking her head

"Wait, dissociated?" I asked. If she meant chronal disassociation, I would literally die.

"Ya see, I have this condition. It's called chronal disassociation. I actually am from the year 2078. I have to wear this here device to keep me to ancored my own timeline. I don't know why It's not working," she explained and pointing to the glowing accelerator.

I could only stare at her.

Of course, I could see where she was coming from, but this was starting to be getting a little excessive. I didn't comment on it, though. I know the struggle of being into the fandom but not having anyone to talk about it.

Heh.

All by myseeeelf* played in my head. Tear.

"Sorry, but i don't think I caught you name," I changed the topic, "Mine's Eliza."

"Oh! It's Lena. Lena Oxton. You can call me Tracer If you like."

Tracer.

Uh huh.

Yeah.

Totally.

Makes sense.

Okay.

"No, your actual name."

"I told you! It's Lena! Or Tracer. Whichever you like"

"As in 'Cheers, love. The cavalry's here.' Tracer?"

"How do you know my catchphrase?!"

"Your catchphrase? Tracer's a fictional character!"

"What do ya mean? I'm not a fictional character. Here, I'll show you," she said. She stood up.

"Show me what?" I said still from the chair.

"This! I was here-"

As soon as she said it she disappeared in bluish light. A ribbon of the same blue light and a characteristic fwoosh lead around the room. In an instant, 'Tracer' appeared at the end of it.

"-Now I'm here!"

I shot up from my seat.

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh.

"Your Tracer?" I asked incredulously.

"The real deal!"

"How?!" I exclaimed in wonderment. It was Tracer! The real Tracer! Ahhhhhhh!

"To heck if I know. All I remember is fighting a purple talon agent, then I was here." She didn't say 'heck', though.

"Purple skin or purple hair or purple gloop backpack?" I asked. Come to think of it, a lot of team talon wears purple.

"Purple hair, why? And why did you call me a fictional character?" She answered, tilting her head as she asked the other question.

"So Overwatch is a video game-,"

"-It is? Well, that's interesting," she interrupted me.

"Yeah, so that's why I was confused when you said you were Tracer, cause as a rule, fictional characters are fictional, but you are obviously quite real. And I'm rambling. But anyways, there are three members of talon the are purple. Those are Widowmaker, Sombra, and the new hero, Moira. Okay, can I just talk about Moira for a second? She's so cool. I love her. Her voice is the best. She's just like 'Come to me and I will heal you.' 'Idle hands are the devil's workshop.' 'Surrender to my will!'" I imitated her voice while quoting her.

"I'm going to guess that she is not the purple girl that I was fighting, Tracer said after a moment of staring at me.

"Okay, so that eliminates Moira. Did the purple girl have a French accent or a Mexican one?" I asked.

"A Mexican accent. I distinctly remember," she replied in an instant.

"OoOoOhHhHhH!" I realized what happened to her.

"What?"

"You've been hacked!"

 **A/N: I haven't forgotten about this little fic! I just... ugh. School, surgery, binge watching MLB season two on Netflix (finally), the works. That doesn't matter any more though! I'm back! Wohoo! So now you've met me! Hi! I may or may not have lied about the switching gears part. Ehh, I'm the author. I can do what I want. But guess what? School is officially out and my mom wants me to stay in bed to recover from getting my appendix out, so more frequent updates! Yay! By the way, thank you for the support. I edited the chapter titles so they have the word count in it for your convenience.**

 **-Coollizzylou**


	6. Chapter 6- Pharah

**Chapter 6- Pharah (1157)**

When I came to Watchpoint: Gibraltar, I was not expecting to crash a funeral.

I didn't even know someone had died.

Then I found out that it was Tracer that had died in an explosion during a rescue mission for UN representative Sherrie Cronket of the United Kingdom and her husband.

I didn't actually know Tracer that well. Sure I envied her, but she joined Overwatch as I joined the army.

However, I did know about Mrs. Cronket. The kidnapping had been claimed by a group of omnic terrorists. My team and I were assigned on a rescue for them. They weren't there, as it were to turn out. That was for PR to handle. Not my concern.

When I had gotten back to my office to fill out the paperwork, there was a letter on my desk. It was addressed to me.

In Arabic.

A language that I was not fluent in, though I understood some.

Unlike my mother, I really only spoke English. The only Arabic I knew and could identify at a glance was my own name, which my she used to write on my lunches for school. Ah, the good old days.

That was definitely my name on the letter.

I ran it through a translation program, and it ended up reading:

 _My dearest Fareeha,_

 _Every mother hopes for a better life for her daughter. I was willing to fight and die for it. I taught you that there is nothing more important than protecting the ones you love. You grew up surrounded by heroes. They filled your head with stories of adventure and dreams of glory. And one day you wanted to join them. But it was not the life I wanted for you._

 _I never told you the weight I carry from all those I killed to keep everyone safe, but I always did what was asked of me. Until I could not take the life I needed to. I hesitated and everything changed._

 _The people I was supposed to protect died, and I was left behind, gravely wounded. The world believed that I was dead. I thought perhaps that was for the best._

 _I've lost so much in my life. I've said goodbye to so many friends. I've buried the ones closest to me. But for all that I've lost, I know that there are still people who need to be protected._

 _So I cannot stop fighting. Not yet. Not while there are still people still waiting for me. One day, I hope you'll understand._

 _Your mother,_

 _Ana_

I had to read the letter over several times before its words sank in.

My mother was alive.

I wasn't sure whether I should scream, cry, laugh, or all three.

She was alive.

She was alive, and didn't tell me.

Why? Why didn't she tell her own daughter that she wasn't dead. I gave the eulogy, dammit. The eulogy of my own, actually not dead, mother!

What the hell!

Who does that?

I threw the letter on the desk with a grunt and started filling out my paperwork. It was due by midnight. A statement needed to be made by Helix, the sooner the better.

When I had finished the mountain of forms, I opened my memos. I only had a few.

There was one from Winston.

Huh.

Its text was short and vague, as if he had

written it so that if it had been intercepted, no one could learn anything from it.

 _Dear Fareeha,_

 _I would like it if you could come by my place to for a chat._

 _-W_

It was a somewhat old memo because I had been on active duty for several weeks, but I had a hunch about what the 'chat' was about. I took a week off work as soon as I was able to.

Then, I promptly crashed a funeral. Winston told me that I should stay for the proceedings, and so I did.

Well, I mostly hung back. Funerals weren't really all my thing, especially with the lovely bit I've news that my, apparently not dead, mom dropped on me. In fact most of the guests that had came for the ceremony only realized I was here during the reception in Winston's lab.With most of the people who I talked to, the conversations were clumsy.

I really need to actually take work off. I was too used to professional conversation with the unit. Er… team.

Still, it had been a while since I had talked with Rinehart, or Brigitte, or any of my family friends. Hell, I don't think I had even seen Torbjörn in person for years. But, after a certain point, even that was starting to wear me out.

I noticed that Winston wasn't in the lab, so I went to go find him.

He was sitting alone by the embedded grave on the thin strip of grass by the edge of the cliff. The moon shimmered off the Mediterranean Sea in the same way it did his uncannily humanlike green eyes. I sat down next to him. After a few minutes in silence, he spoke up.

"So…um…Fareeha, what did bring you to the Watchpoint? I mean, you, er I tried to keep the funeral somewhat private so…"

"I got off of active duty and saw that you had sent me a memo. What did you want to 'chat' about?" I reminded him.

"Huh? Oh! I know what you're talking about. Yes," he half mumbled to himself

And got up. "Follow me."

He got up and gestured for me to follow. We walked back into the lab and up to his main console. He opened a drawer, which had several shiny Overwatch induction coins, and grabbed one.

A giddy wave was rising up from in my chest. It would seam my hunch was correct.

" Ahem. Fareeha Amari. As the leader of the new Overwatch, I would like to formally ask if you would be willing to put your life on the line, to risk everything, to protect the innocent and fight for a better future?"

I had to fight to keep my composure. My childhood dream was finally coming true!

"I know it's risky, but, but look around! The world needs us again. And you can help make a differ-"

"I'll do it, Winston," I interrupted him. I was finally an Overwatch agent!

"Thank you! Honestly it means so much to me," he gruffed and handed me my very own induction coin, along with more paperwork.

"The coin also doubles as a secure communication device. Keep in touch, Fareeha."

"Winston, if I'm going to be going into battle with you, you can use my callsign, Pharah."

"I'll keep that in mind, Pharah."

With that, he swung down a rough rope course in order to join the festivities, and I was left alone with my dream in my hand.

Mother wasn't the only one who had a surprise, it would seem.

 **A/N: Guess which sorry excuse for a productive human being is actually not dead? It me! Sorry. Thanks for being patient with me. I'm really excited about how the story is developing. The next chapter is already in the works, so I'm hoping to get my stuff together, and actually finish in a week tops.**

 **-Collizzylou**


	7. Chapter 7- Sombra

**Chapter 7- Sombra (1086)**

"You. Had. _One_ job!" Gabe hissed from across the table.

"I was just following protocol," I taunted him. "By the way, this place you got here is pretty comfortable." It was my first time in the inner council's conference room.

I knew it wouldn't be my last. I just had to play this right.

"What my colleague is trying to express, is that you failed to detain the hostages until the correct time," Moira spoke condescendingly, with the clear warning that I was toeing the line.

Alright, I would play her game. Asústame panteón, old hag.

"But the UN still blames the Omnics for kidnapping Cronket, and the Omnics blame the UN for ordering an attack on one of their communities. Win-win. Honestly, I don't understand why you're yelling at me," I smirked and leaned back in the black leather chair.

"Your actions caused the loss of one of our facilities. Again," Akande accused from the head of the table. It was the first time he had spoken since the three of them decided to chew me out over the 'Cronket Incident'.

Oh, adorable. They were trying to threaten me. They wouldn't just let me go. We all knew it. I know too much.

"Oh come on, you would rather Overwatch having control of it? Again, I was just following protocol. It's not like all of them made it out alive, anyway." I subtly dropped my bargaining chip.

"And what makes you say that?" Gabe rasped, tilting his head.

A triumphant smirk reached across my face.

"Exactly what I say, Gabe. You want proof?" I opened the holovid and with a framing movement sent it across the table. It spun twice for effect before stopping just in front of Akande. The video clip played automatically. It was a security camera feed of me hacking Tracer and sending her to who knows when. She didn't even see me coming!

I watched their faces as it played, to get a read for the room. Moira's eyebrows were raised, and Akande's were furrowed. Gabe was glaring out of his mask over folded arms and sulking in the chair.

They stared at each other for a few seconds. They were going to kick me out of the conference room to have a real discussion in 'private'.

Meaning I was off the hook.

I threw a microcam in the corner while they were distracted.

Akande stood and cleared his throat.

"You may go." He pointed to the door.

"I thought you'd say that," I smirked.

"Sombra!" Gabe growled irritably. I laughed.

Oh, I _love_ getting under his skin. My greatest pleasure.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Gabe. See you later." I waved and translocated out of the conference room.

I reappeared in the armory across the main hall, biting back a fresh wave of nausea. I activated my thermoptic camp and opened the feed from the microcam.

"D-did she just-" Gabe's voice was dripping with disbelief. I chuckled to myself. Did he not think I had a back door?

"It would appear that she did indeed. Now, may it be more prudent to actually discuss what we were planning on?" Moira answered coolly.

"I'm about done with her _,"_ Gabe growled, pounding a fist on the table.

"She has proven to be difficult to work with," Moira agreed. "However, her results have been beneficial. Albeit, mutually."

They both turned to Akande.

"I normally don't mind some ambition in my people. That said, this is the second warehouse that she has destroyed."

"Korpal's already on repairs," Moira reported.

He pushed a button underneath the black conference table, and it replayed my proof. "What I find hard to believe is the video that she has shown us. It seems unlikely that Tracer has indeed been eliminated."

"If there's no body, she isn't dead. Learned that the hard way," Gabe's voice rattled.

"Perhaps," Moira spoke up over arched fingers, "she isn't dead at all. It is possible, considering her condition, that she is in another time. All the same, we don't need to worry about her any—"

A hand grabbed my collar, knocking me out of my camo. Next I knew, I was dangling five inches in the air.

The infrasight visor of the person who interrupted me clasped open to reveal Widowmaker. Her glare was as cold as the hand that was brushing against my chin.

"Ah, my favorite spider. How was the mission? Successful, right?"

"What are you doing?" She accused.

"Oh, you know, hacking. By the way, could you set me down?"

She examined me in suspicion for a few more seconds before finally dropping me.

She opened a special safe that doubled as a wide table, and a stand rose from it.

Widowmaker set her kiss on the shiny metal rack. The black countertops slid and closed over with a satisfactory humm.

She turned to look at me.

"Are you done?"

"I was just leaving, amiga."

"I am not your _friend_." she sneered.

I scoffed and strolled out of the armory and into the Bartalotti Compound. The grand mansion had been closed and converted to a fully equipped fortress.

It's amazing how a maintenance notice automatically deters suspicion. That, and the fact that I had proof that the Prime Minister has been accepting bribes from large corporations for his own gain. That kind of information could really ruin a career. It was just the amount of incentive to convince him to look the other way as Talon set up a stronghold. I would rather just expose him, _el ladrón_ , but he was more useful in office.

I opened a holovid of the locations of everything I've hacked. Most of the dots on the world map clustered around Europe. There should have been a dot in the middle of the United States.

There wasn't.

I was hoping that sending Tracer 60 years in the past would destroy her. However, what Moira said had me thinking.

I opened a new tab and put several lines of code in that I haven't for a while. A new holovid popped up. It was the same map, only this time the dots clustered Burbank, California. They were remnants of the dreaded 'Sombra ARG'. Ha. That was fun, watching Blizzard scurry around trying to isolate my code with their obsolete tech.

Sure enough, There was a dot in the midwest.

I swore and closed both the holovids. Of course that accelerator would put her in the timeline where she existed. I wish my bullets hadn't gone straight through her. Would've saved me so much time.

 **A/N: Well I sure have dropped off the face off the earth. wow. (Even I'm disappointed with myself.) I actually had written this ages ago, but completely forgot to post it. I kinda forgot how fun writing this whole melodramatic self-indulgent garbage pile is. So enjoy!**

 **-Coollizzylou**


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